Thicker Than Water
by Flareons
Summary: The bond between brothers is always strong, no matter what the bond may be. Kaito/Akito. Contains incest and abuse.


**Title:** Thicker Than Water

**Series:** Air Gear

**Pairing:** Wanijima Kaito/Wanijima Akito

**Genre:** Angst

**Rating:** R for incest and abuse

**Word Count:** 1,753

**Status: **Complete.

**Summary: **The bond between brothers is always strong, no matter what the bond may be.

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_12/09/08 - Random note: There is no actual sex involved; just very inappropriate sexual touching. Kaito wouldn't want to 'ruin' his little brother in _that_ way -- even he has his limits, and cares enough not to! I wouldn't note this if it weren't an important interpretation for the character development in this story. :)_

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--x--

Kaito's skin isn't soft under his fingertips, but it's smooth and strong. With every movement Akito makes he can feel how the elasticity of its youth is lessening with age. It's warm. Smells like tobacco and sweat and the crispness of outside. He breathes it in as he explores his torso; lithe and muscular. He rests his cheek on his breast to listen to the steady beating of his heart and the rush of air as it fills the chambers of his lungs. It's raspy from smoking, and Akito has the urge to say '_Please stop, Oniichan_', but he won't because he knows that his brother is only human, and that he has his vices too. His imperfection is something that he's all too familiar with, but he loves him anyway.

His brother's grip hurts him as he's lifted, but he says nothing and allows himself to be moved onto his lap and held in the closest thing to an embrace that exists between them. He can almost feel the ligaments and muscles of his arms stretch taut, and he runs his hands along them quickly to have a more concrete idea of their movement. His arms are stiff and tight; powerful but weak. Akito finds himself in quiet awe at all the similarities between them, yet how different they both have ended up being. He looks up, wanting to see his brother's face, and is pinned down by an icy blue stare. The eyes are familiar to him, but somehow they seem foreign to him as well. He shivers and hastily goes back to what he was doing; runs his fingers gently down Kaito's protruding collar bone, trailing a line down between his pectoral muscles to his navel.

His brother pushes him back against the bed roughly, and he can feel the springs dig into his back in a way that would be less painful if his skin wasn't still tender from the morning's beatings. He lets out a wince and receives another small shove for his trouble. Tears form in his eyes and he blinks them away until his brother comes into focus again.

"Oniichan..." he says; voice soft and nervous.

"Brat," the reply is rough and abrasive, but Akito can hear the undertone of affection hidden in it.

He reaches a hand up to run his fingers through the curtain of hair that is pooling around him as Kaito hovers over him steadily. It's silky smooth between his fingers, except when they reach the parts where he had placed decorative beads so long ago. A faint, floral scent hits his nose, alerting him to the fact that his brother had borrowed his shampoo that morning and causing him to smile up at him lightly. He's caged in by his brother's body, and while it is still confining at least it is comfortable.

Kaito leans down further – close enough that their bare chests press together. Akito's skin tingles where his brother is touching him, and he exhales deeply. A hand grabs his shoulder tightly, causing him to snap to attention. He stares up at Kaito searchingly; worried. He can no longer focus on Tuning. It's hard to tell when his brother is going to be kind and when he is going to be cruel. Kaito's gaze surprises him, but it gives him the information he needs to calm down. His gaze is smooth like ocean glass instead of sharp and cutting like a razor. This is the brother who helped him learn everything that he does now – the brother that he rarely ever gets to see anymore.

Akito watches him carefully, unsure of what he's supposed to do now. This isn't how Tuning usually goes between them, but it might just be a new way to Tune that he's being taught. His brother is smart and often teaches him things without warning him first, which usually results in his failure and, depending on what he failed at, a beating. He shivers at the memory of bullets searing his flesh, and the whip cracking down on his arms, legs, shoulders, back. He works hard to stay in line and do what Kaito wants him to, but Agito is rebellious and doesn't particularly care about the consequences of being unbroken.

"Where is Agito?" The question startles him, and the tone implies that it doesn't really matter whether he answers it or not. Akito knows how deceiving that tone can be, however, and so replies hurriedly:

"Sleeping." _Watching._

"Ah," says Kaito, and Akito can hear and feel his chest rumble with the sound. He reaches up to splay his fingers over the warm skin of his abdomen curiously and wonders if his brother could tell that he was lying. Kaito wraps strong fingers around his wrist and pins his hand back to the bed, releasing it again after a few moments, sending him a look that Akito quickly interprets as an order not to move it again. He wonders how he's supposed to practice Tuning like this. His brother moves his hand to his chest, examining the bruises he gave him earlier, and all Akito can hear is his own heartbeat fluttering like a caged bird. The touch _hurts_, and he lets out a small whimper, causing Kaito's attention to drift away from his bruises to his face. His gaze is no longer soft.

"I only did it because you were being a bad little brother, Akito," he croons, tracing a finger painfully around another one of his bruises. "Pets should always obey their masters, otherwise they will be put down."

'_I'm not a pet,' _he wants to say, but fear keeps the words away from his throat. _'I'm a person – your brother.'_

Kaito continues with his ministrations, and he can feel his muscles tighten up with pain. "Oniichan," he chokes out. "Please stop." His brother pauses, and then aggravates one last wound with a seemingly gentle gesture before his hands retreat to more comfortable territory. Akito lets out a sigh of relief and closes his eye, waiting for Kaito to get off of him and declare his lesson finished. He opens it again a moment later when he hasn't moved, confused, and parts his lips to voice his confusion when he finds them covered by his brother's lips.

It's not a kiss, because kisses are supposed to be kind and gentle. This is just lips and teeth and tongue. Aggressive. Rough. Possessive. He can taste his own blood on his brother's lips mixed with the scent of their shared toothpaste and he whimpers, digging his fingers into Kaito's shoulder blades. Akito receives a sharp bite to his tongue in retaliation, causing him to squirm uncomfortably and let out wince that's muffled by their lips. His brother presses more of his weight down on him, effectively pinning him and disabling most of his movement. He's trapped. Caged. He doesn't mind it as much as he thinks he should. Kaito chuckles and he can feel the reverberations in his own chest, echoing through his body until they disappear.

Agito is so enraged that Akito can barely think anymore; just feel. His head pounds in harmony with his racing heart, yet somehow the rhythm in his head seems steadier than the rhythm in his chest. He clenches his eye shut tightly and refrains from letting any sound of discomfort escape him. Kaito pulls away just enough to stare down at him coldly. Akito can see his gaze even with his eye shut. It burns his skin with intensity.

"He's awake?"

Kaito runs his hand down between them until it reaches just below his navel. He snaps his eye wide open and stares at his brother questioningly; shivering with anxiety and nervousness. "Y-Yes," he replies, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Hm," his brother says, as though this information doesn't matter to him. Akito knows that it does, because every single thing his brother asks matters to him – just not always in the way one would think. He watches Kaito intently, willing him to both stop and to proceed. His mind is conflicting with his body, and his body with his mind. What is happening is both good and bad. His brother wouldn't do this if he didn't care. His brother wouldn't do this if he cared.

"Oniichan," he says. It's the only word he can find to voice his confusion. Kaito sends him a silencing look and slips his hand down between his legs. Akito gasps and shudders at the touch. Agito is furious. Akito can feel his other half try to pull him back into their mind so that he can be safe with him, but he's too connected with his body to be distanced from it. His head is searing with pain; his ears ring and his temples throb. Agito wants to protect him, but Akito wants to stay. His brother's touch should be hurting him, but instead it makes his stomach twist in ways that shouldn't be so pleasant.

_Akito_, says Agito, but Akito can't hear him. Everything is too loud too bright too good too bad. _Stop, stop, stop_, he thinks, and then it does.

Everything is buzzing. His skin, his stomach, his fingers, toes, arms, legs, head. He feels more exhausted than after a day's worth of hard training, and thinks that he could sleep for a week if he was allowed to. He can feel the mattress sink where his brother puts his arm to push himself up and off of him. Akito can feel his body slide slightly toward it, but stop as soon as Kaito lifts his hand and gets off of the bed. His brother's hair floats past him, leaving the faint smell of flower petals in its wake. He inhales deeply and listens to Kaito's footsteps as he exits the room. They pause just before leaving the room altogether.

"Fucking filth," says his brother, and walks away.

Akito remains perfectly motionless for a while, just listening to the sounds of everyday life continuing around him. The sticky wetness on his stomach has dried and he wants to wash it off but can't find the energy. He fumbles around weakly for the corner of the blanket and pulls it around himself instead as he curls up into an aching ball. Agito will take over in a few minutes, he knows, but he drifts off to sleep anyway.

_He wouldn't do it if he didn't care_, he tells himself as the world fades away.

_He wouldn't do it if he cared_, echoes back.


End file.
